


Hug

by 9r7g5h



Series: 1000 Days of Xena [42]
Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/F, Post-FIN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:52:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9r7g5h/pseuds/9r7g5h
Summary: She asked for a hug, and for a single moment, she could pretend.





	Hug

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Ok, so, I thought of this a while ago while talking to my D&D group, so you can totally 100% blame them for this lovely pile of angst. I hope you enjoy! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.

Gabrielle wasn’t sure why she had gone to Athens. There was no real reason for it-no one was in trouble, no one was dying, there was nothing for her to do there.  


And maybe that’s why she went. Ever since she had landed on the shores of Greece, alone except for the stone urn carrying what remained of her soulmate, Gabrielle hadn’t known peace. She hadn’t been expecting to know peace of mind, or of heart, no. How could she, when her heart was broken and sometimes her mind forgot? Because it still did, sometimes- when she first woke up in the morning, when the sky was a grey readying itself to turn blue, she wondered why the other side of the furs were cold; wondered when Xena would get back from catching breakfast; wondered when Xena would build up the fire, place her catch there to cook, and slide back into bed with her, smelling slightly like fish no matter how hard she had scrubbed her hands. 

Only to remember as the sky changed, as she forced herself to leave the warmth of the furs she slept in alone and hunt for her own breakfast, tend to her own fire, her own hands smelling slightly no matter how hard she scrubbed at them. Only to remember and be hit with a fresh wave of grief all over again, because Xena was gone. 

But when she’d returned to Greece, part of her had been expecting some peace of body, to let herself grieve before she returned to her role of protector. A couple of weeks on the farm with Lila and Sarah, or perhaps back to Xena’s grandparent’s place to finish fixing it up in solitude, just some situation that would allow her to heal. 

She’d barely made it to the stable where they had left Argo before the chakram was sighted on her hip, and a group of people had rushed her, begging for her help. 

Help she had to give, because how better to dishonor Xena’s memory then to turn them away? 

So the last few months had been anything but peaceful. Warlords, bandits, corruption on a scale she had never seen before, or perhaps had but hadn’t recognized because of Xena’s presence- all of it had popped up across Greece, all of it demanding immediate attention. And even though she hadn’t been alone, occasionally running into Hercules or a handful of other warriors who had taken up the cause, most she had faced by herself.

It was exhausting, being the only thing standing between innocent people and death, beyond tiring to have to watch her own back all the time. So perhaps she had gone to Athens for some peace. Because she knew the king there, knew he was good and loyal and truly cared for his people, and the guards were well equipped to take care of anything that came. So there she could rest. 

She hadn’t expected an attempt at peace to be quite so painful. 

She’d caught sight of her out of the corner of her eye- just a quick flash in the market, but it’d been enough to send Gabrielle’s heart to a standstill, her body twisting to turn and face the ghost she’d long thought gone. A glance of blue eyes, of black hair, of that stance she used to be happy standing in the shadow of, of the woman she had once walked besides. Just a flicker of recognition, and then she was gone. 

Gone until Gabrielle took off after her, sending merchants and shoppers fleeing from her path as she pulled her sais from her boots, the sharp points angled to scare instead of harm. The road clear, she caught her- only to mentally curse as the woman turned, revealing a familiar face that, for all it was the same, was not Xena’s. 

Meg looked good, especially compared to how she’d looked the last time Gabrielle had seen her. She’d dyed her hair, wore clothing that actually seemed to fit her properly, and even though nothing could reverse the clock to remove the decades that were engraved in her face, still, she actually _looked_ like the Meg Gabrielle remembered. She looked the like the woman she had once been, enjoying life her own way, even if there was a hint of sadness within her eyes. 

Sadness that darkened for a moment as Meg recognized her, only to settle after a few minutes into some strange mixture of fondness and regret. 

“Gabrielle,” Meg said, her voice both stiff and welcoming, her emotions clearly twisting within her into something even she was having a hard time understanding. “Let’s go eat.” 

They didn’t say much else as they walked, Meg leading the way to a specific stall. The tender was young, barely older than a boy, but he and Meg exchanged pleasantries as if they had known each other for a long time. A quick exchange of a few dinars bought a basket of fruit and two long skewers of meat, still dripping with grease and seasoning as they were pulled from the low fire that kept them warm. A bit more walking followed, ending in some small corner of the city. 

A grassy plot of land with a few chairs here and there, a clearing that was mostly empty this time of day, but perhaps it was for the best. Meg settled herself into one, handed a skewer of meat to Gabrielle, and slowly began to eat her own, small bites as she stared off across the way. 

Gabrielle couldn’t help but stare. 

She’d lost quite a bit of weight since they’d last seen her, though Gabrielle couldn’t say it was healthy. There were the clear signs of grief present on Meg, those strange changes that you could never place your finger on but that were there, making it clear the person themselves were different. She looked old, even though some of the changes she had made had brought back a hint of her youth, but still, Meg _looked_ old. 

And Gabrielle couldn’t help but wonder how close Meg was to Xena. If, with how closely they had resembled each other when younger, what she was seeing could be a fill in for her missing love. 

They had tried to go see Diana and Leah, after they had woken up. Tried to go see most of their old friends, in fact, trying to figure out who was alive and who had passed. But Leah had been one of the former, having died heroically protecting some of her priestesses from an invading troop, channeling Xena and driving out the men who had been set on taking the temple, though not without wounds of her own. And while Diana still lived, she took no visitors, under order of the King. Her mind had slipped in her old age, and she was confused. While Philemon had welcomed them, had given them rooms and heard their fantastic tale, he had refused to let them see her, scared that their presence, especially still so young, might just make her worse. 

So Meg was the only frame of reference Gabrielle had, and she couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help but wonder if Meg represented how Xena would have looked, had they had the time to grow old. 

Xena wouldn’t have dyed her hair, Gabrielle was sure of that. She would have let it go gray, the pure black slowly fading into white. Or maybe she would have; Xena did have a vain streak in her, as much as she wanted to deny it, and while her hair would have resembled snow at some point, not until she was very, very old. And her face probably would have wrinkled horribly- too many years scowling at friends and foes, though they would have been overlapped by laugh lines as well. She’d probably look similar to Meg, Gabrielle realized with a nod as it made sense. She’d have kept a bit more fit, stayed strong even after hanging up her sword, but still. Thinking it through, Meg was a very close call. 

That made it even harder sitting next to her. Because for a moment Gabrielle could pretend. Could pretend that the woman next to her, licking the greasy remains from her fingers, was _her_. Could pretend that it was some future date, sometime in some world where they had lived out thirty, forty, fifty years together, side by side, and Meg was at the beginning of that time they could have lived. 

“I should hate you, you know,” Meg finally said as she tossed her stick to the side, picking up a piece of fruit and playing with it between her hands. “I should hate you for disappearing, for getting Joxy killed, for my Virgil running off after you and her like that. But I’ve heard the stories- it wasn’t your fault. You had to protect your kid, and Joxy at least died the hero he always thought he was. And Virgil’s a grown man, I can’t keep him clutchin’ my apron strings forever. Though I wish I could.” She sighed at that, finally taking a bite of her apple, wiping her chin as a dribble of juice ran down it. Eyeing the chakram at Gabrielle’s hip, Meg nodded as she chewed, eventually motioning towards it as she swallowed. “I should hate you, but I don’t have it in me anymore. So tell me: how’d she die?” 

So Gabrielle told her- told her about Japa, about the souls and the demon that tormented them, about the war and Xena’s death. About Akimi, about the fountain, and how, at the very last moment, Xena had asked her to stop. Even though the secrets weren’t hers to share Gabrielle still shared them, the words spilling forth as she laid out the pain and heartbreak for Meg to see. 

She didn’t even realize she was crying until Meg held out a cloth, worn and old but clean, for her to wipe away the tears. 

“Xena always was the most self-sacrificing of us,” Meg said with a snort when Gabrielle had fallen mostly quiet, only an occasional sniffle coming from her. “Always working for ‘the greater good.’” Her voice was tinted with scorn, mouth slightly twisted in anger. “That fire was an accident, those deaths weren’t her fault, and it sounds to me like Xena got played by that Akimi girl. The greater good? Sounds like a waste of a death to me, especially when alive she could have done so much more.” 

Secretly Gabrielle agreed. Secretly she had hated Xena for leaving her, for deciding to stay dead instead of finding some other way, alive, that she could have helped the souls. And secretly Gabrielle hated Akimi for the role she had played in all of this, all those years ago, leading to that final goodbye on top of the mountain. 

It was a relief to hear someone say it, even a guilty relief as it was. Because Gabrielle couldn’t bring herself to truly be angry, even though she wanted to be, even though anger might be easier than this pain. 

“The hurt will fade in time, girly,” Meg said into the silence that followed, as if she knew and understood what was going on in Gabrielle’s mind. “Joxy still hurts, every once in a while, but a lot less than when I first lost him. It’ll be the same for you.” 

Meg reached out and clasped Gabrielle on her shoulder, the touch soothing in its almost familiarity. And Gabrielle knew she shouldn’t, knew it was awful of her to do so, but she couldn’t help herself. 

“Could I have a hug?”

Meg didn’t respond, just turned in her seat and opened her arms towards Gabrielle. 

It was wrong. As much as Gabrielle hated to think that as she burrowed into Meg’s arms, her face pressing against her neck, she could feel how wrong it was. Meg wasn’t Xena, hadn’t been able to even pretend to be Xena for a long time, and this _wasn’t her_.  

But by the gods it could be. It could be an older Xena in her arms, a Xena she had watched age and wrinkle and live, and it could be an older her holding her. Because Gabrielle felt _old_. Xena had joked her last birthday that she was in her fifties now, despite the ice fending off the years, and Gabrielle felt it. Felt it at the end of each long day riding Argo, felt it in every swing of her sais and toss of her chakram, felt it in every death she caused and life she prolonged, she felt old. 

Felt it in every sad, slow, pained beat of her heart that was still missing Xena, Gabrielle felt old. 

So for that moment, for that single, bright, glorious moment, Gabrielle let herself pretend. Let herself pretend that it was Xena holding her, the two of them having just finished lunch in the square. Let herself pretend that, when she opened her eyes, the face looking back at her would be turned into a smile, eyes still young within that aged face. Let herself pretend that she would match, that her own being looked the same as she felt. 

For that glorious moment, Gabrielle let herself pretend. And for that single moment, it didn’t hurt. 

She bit her tongue when she finally pulled away, forcing a thankful smile as Meg patted her shoulder, the movement friendly in its stiffness. Forced away the tears that threatened to fall once again as she helped Meg clean up after their meal, offering a few dinars for the food, insisting when Meg tried to turn them down.

“Welp, I need to be getting home,” Meg said, glancing at the sky. “Gotta tend to the little ones. You take care of yourself, alright?” 

Forced away the pain as Gabrielle, forcing her voice to remain steady, said a single “Good bye” before finally walking away.

Forced herself to accept that the warmth that had surrounded her in that moment had been false, and forced herself to accept that she was alone. 

Because Xena was gone, and while Meg gave a great hug, Gabrielle couldn’t pretend. 

So she said her good bye to more than just Meg and left. 


End file.
